Page 71 of Knot Made to Break: Part Two

I nodded frantically, my breath coming in short, desperate pants. “I know I can. Please, Gio. I need it.”

He slid one hand between my thighs, fingers gliding through the mess of slick coating my folds. “Mmm,” he hummed, low and dirty. “She’s not lying. Already soaked. Our girl’sready.”

Without warning, Gio scooped me up and carried me back to the center of the nest. He lowered himself first, reclining into the pillows like a king—then pulled me with him, positioning me astride his hips.

My thighs spread wide to straddle him, knees sinking into the soft bedding. I braced my hands on his chest, heart racing. His palms slid to my waist, broad and steady, thumbs pressing into the hollows of my hips as he lined himself up.

Then he thrust.

One long, devastating stroke that knocked the breath from my lungs and made my back arch like a bowstring. My head tipped back, hair trailing down my spine as I cried out, savoring the stretch, the weight, thedepth.

God, I’d never get used to this. And maybe I never wanted to. I wanted every time he was inside me to feel this exciting, this new, this special.

He filled me so completely it bordered on too much—but I didn’t want less. I wantedmore.

The stretch was exquisite—my body yielding, molding to fit every thick inch of him.

“Fuck,” I gasped, digging my nails into his shoulders. Tiny crescents bloomed on his skin where I held on for dear life.

Marco knelt in front of me, eyes blown wide with hunger as he watched Giovanni’s cock disappear inside me. “I’ve dreamed about this, Angel. About watching you fall apart for us. Aboutowningyou.”

His thumb skimmed across my lower lip, slow and deliberate. I opened for him instinctively, drawing it into my mouth and sucking. His breath caught and a soft curse slipped free.

“Fuck.”

He pulled his thumb from between my lips and stood, cock thick and ready as he lined up at my mouth.

“Open up, Angel,” he rasped. “Show me how good you sin for me.”

I parted my lips and welcomed him in, moaning as the heavy weight of him settled on my tongue. Salt and musk and his own unique signature filled my senses as he pushed deeper. His fingers tangled in my hair, holding me steady—not forceful, but firm, anchoring me to him.

“Goddamn,” he growled, sounding wrecked already. “Look at mewhile you take my cock, Angel.”

I obeyed, locking eyes with Marco’s as I hollowed my cheeks and swirled my tongue, my pussy clenching around Giovanni’s thick cock in response. Beneath me, Gio groaned and bucked, driving deeper, making me whimper around the length filling my throat.

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” Tommy murmured, appearing at my side. His fingers trailed down to my breast, teasing the nipple until it peaked under his touch. Then his mouth replaced his hand—wet and hot. The flick of his tongue sent sparks arcing straight to my core.

When he pulled back, my nipple was slick and aching. I reached blindly for him with my free hand, guiding him forward, needing more. He knelt easily, cock already hard, and I wrapped my fingers around him, stroking him in time with Gio’s thrusts.

Tommy’s low groan rumbled through his chest, spurring me on, making me feel like an absolute goddess for this level of coordination, pleasuring three of them at the same time.

Behind me, the bed dipped again.

Large hands slid up my back, followed by the press of Dimitri’s lips against my spine. Each kiss landed slow and purposeful; a brand of ownership scorched into my skin.

When his slick fingers slid between my cheeks, I tensed—just for a second.

“Breathe, Kitten,” he growled, voice rough with control and hunger. “I’m going to take you here. Stretch you open. Fill every inch of you until you know exactly who you belong to.”

His finger circled that tight, untested entrance, and the sensation sparked straight through me. It was strange and intense, yet incredible. He pressed inward, slow and steady. The burn was immediate, but not unwelcome.

My body resisted at first… then yielded to his gentle insistence.

He worked me open with patience and skill, each stroke deliberate, coaxing me to relax around the intrusion. When I fluttered around him, ready for more, he added a second finger. The stretch made me gasp, but he didn’t stop—scissoring them gently, easing me wider with every pass.

“That’s it,” he praised, and my Omega instantly preened. “So fuckin’ good for me, Kitten.”

Giovanni’s pace slowed beneath me, his thrusts deep and deliberate, hips rolling up with unrelenting control. “You like that?” he rasped. “Like feeling us all around you, taking what’s ours?”

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